Mail Order Spike
by Union98
Summary: This is a one shot developed for the Buffy Track at Dragoncon about 5 years ago. It's also my first submission to this site. None of these characters belong to me; I'm just playing in Joss's world.


"What is it?"

"Don't no," Xander answered, giving the delivery girl an absent smile. She was cute with her short black spiky hair and big blue eyes, but since they were eye to eye, she was a bit too tall for his tastes. He turned toward the others as he elbowed the door shut behind him. His dark hair, although recently cut, had that 'just got out of bed look' even though it was almost 9:00 P.M. He wore a faded green t-shirt and over that, a green and black plaid shirt. In his hands, he held a square box wrapped in brown kraft paper. His eyes were focused on the non-descript white label neatly centered on the top. "It says. . ."

"Buffy Summers."

"Actually, no." Xander responded, raising one dark eye-brow rakishly.

Buffy blinked in confusion. She and Willow had just returned from a long satisfying mall attack and had just enough time to set down their shopping bags when the doorbell rang. "It's not for me? But it's my house!" she exclaimed, her mouth turning downward petulantly as she slipped her red vinyl purse off her shoulder.. Carelessly, she set it down next to the shopping bags in the chintz fabric-covered chair. The bags were emblazoned with several popular boutique store names. Out of the top of one bag a purple, frilly, off the shoulder blouse could be seen. Another bag held a little black dress and two pairs of leather pants, one in red and one in black. In the other bags there were, of course, shoes and matching accessories. "Shouldn't all plainly wrapped boxes. . ."

"Especially when they're so neatly taped. . ." Willow chirped. She stood just behind Buffy, her reddish-brown hair slightly wind blown. She still wore her light green denim jacket and held her single bag. The store, Kreature's Books and Things, had recently celebrated their grand opening and Willow had purchased the newest book by one of her favorite historians, Kyle Langodash. She couldn't wait to curl up in her favorite chair and start reading "Demons: All Things Inhuman".

"That came to my house, shouldn't it be deliverable to me?" Buffy continued. She folded her arms beneath her breasts and gave the offending box a glare.

"Well, normally, I'd say yeah, but not this time. Sorry Buff." Xander said with a shrug. "Although it does say 'I slash O' Buffy Summers." He read aloud, his forehead creased in concentration.

"In care of." Willow supplied brightly before Buffy could respond. "I slash O means in care of."

"So, you're saying, it came to me - but it's not mine?" Buffy asked, her nose wrinkling in pique. "That hardly seems fair."

"Yes, exactly! I mean, not really. . ." Willow said, back peddling quickly, throwing an apologetic glance Buffy's way. "I mean, who else's name is on it? Is it mine?" Willow said hopefully. "I mean, probably not, after all, I don't live here, but there's always a chance."

"Sorry Will. Not you either." Xander said. "Maybe it's for . . ."

"It's mine."

All heads turned to see Spike saunter out of the kitchen, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his black leather duster. His head was tilted at an angle, his bleach blonde hair glaringly bright.

"I was going to say me." Xander said dryly, his eyes narrowing, echoing his distaste of the unexpected and unwelcome company. He hated it when Spike waltzed in as if he owned the place. His eyes lit on the mirror that was on the wall next to the door, and saw how disarrayed his hair looked, especially when compared to Spikes. He shifted the box to one arm and, trying to be casual, ran his hand through his hair. His efforts did little, but he felt better for it. His eyes flicked back to Spike. From the amused glint in the vampire's dark eyes and the slight upward curve of his mouth, it seemed that Spike knew what he had done and why. Xander scowled. "But I was rudely interrupted."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. But it does say…" Spike prompted, one dark eyebrow lifting skyward.

"It doesn't say Mr. Spike if that's what you're implying." Xander said snapped.

"Bloody 'ell." Spike said, rolling his eyes. "Just what _does_ it say?"

"It says, Mr. William, The Bloody. . ."

"Give it to me you git!" Spike said, striding forward to swipe the box out of Xander's grasp. "It _is_ mine and I've been expecting it."

"So you had it delivered here?" Willow asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Spike glared at Willow impatiently. "Do you really think the local delivery service is going to deliver a package to a crypt?"

"Oh." Willow said in a small voice. "I didn't think about that."

"And I thought you were the smart one. . ." Spike said, his tone mocking.

Willow brightened momentarily then realized that it hadn't exactly been a compliment. Her smile faded and Buffy turned to pat her shoulder consolingly.

With an exaggerated sigh, Spike turned and headed back toward the kitchen with his box. Buffy, Xander and Willow exchanged glances and then followed him. They found Spike noisily rummaging through one of the long kitchen drawers. They exchanged glances when he removed a knife from the drawer. He balanced the knife handle in his palm as if weighing it before turning toward the island cabinet where the box sat. "What?" he asked, looking at them. "You don't want me to ruin my manicure now do you?" His attention returned to the box, studying it.

Again, the Scooby gang exchanged glances. Buffy silently mouthed, "Manicure?" Willow shrugged her shoulders and Xander just looked disgusted.

"I heard that," Spike growled as he slipped the knife carefully along the well-taped seam. With a gentle sawing motion, he cut through the tape, allowing the paper flap to open. "It takes a lot of grooming, you know, to look as good as I do. And a well kept vampire is a. . .ah, there we go." And with that, the other flap snapped open. "Now, we just do this. . ." and he flipped the box over carefully and slid the knife's edge under the last bit of tape. "And voila," he said, with a flourish of the knife.

Silently, Buffy rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"I heard that too. . ." Spike said without looking up.

"I didn't say anything. . . "

"No, but you think bloody loud."

"What? You can read minds now?" Buffy quipped.

"Only yours luv, only yours…" Spike answered somewhat distractedly, as if not really interested in exchanging insults at the moment.

Buffy felt oddly disappointed, and that, she told herself sternly, was ridiculous. Why should she care… "Oh!"She exclaimed, her eyes growing wide as Spike lifted a shiny, red varnished wooden case from the unwrapped box. "How beautiful!"

"I've never seen anything so…" Xander paused, unable to find a word to accurately describe the object that Spike held.

"Shiny?" Willow offered.

"Yes, but more than that. . ." He leaned closer, reaching toward the case with one finger extended. "Ow!" Xander exclaimed when Spike slapped his hand. "That hurt!"

"Good!" Spike barked, holding the case protectively against his chest. "It was supposed to."

"What is it Spike?" Buffy asked, curious at the vampire's uncharacteristic reaction.

"It's. . ." Spike spoke but seemed unable to complete his sentence. One hand lovingly stroked the case's lid and his eyes were unfocused as if lost in thought.

Buffy felt a chill crawl up her spine. "Spike?" she probed gently, cautiously. "Can I see the box?"

"No," he said, his voice curiously flat and distant.

Buffy glanced at Willow and as they're eyes met, realized that they were both sharing the same sense of impending disaster.

"It's mine and it calls to me." Spike continued, in that same vapid tone.

"What did you say?"

Buffy's question cut through the fog surrounding him because Spike's expression suddenly cleared. For a moment, he seemed to blink in confusion, but then his expression grew guarded. "I didn't say anything."

"Yes you did," Willow inserted quickly. "You said 'it calls to me.'" She repeated his words, trying to duplicate the vampire's exact tone.

Realizing that he was giving too much away, Spike affected a nonchalant expression. "You're daft." He said, dismissing her with a flick of his fingers. "You're all daft." He scowled, making sure each one knew that he, or she, was included. "Well, gotta run." He said, as if suddenly he was in a great hurry. Picking up the wooden case, he tucked it against his side then pulled his coat over it, effectively hiding it from site. "Places to go; people to see." And with three quick strides was out the kitchen door, disappearing into the darkness before anyone could say, or do, anything.

"Thanks Xander. Couldn't have done without you ole' buddy." Xander mumbled, glaring at the wide open door.

"Well. That was quite strange, don't you think?" Willow asked.

"Spike's always strange." Xander threw back at her. "Why should tonight be any different?"

"No, Willow's right," Buffy said thoughtfully. "That was strange and odd and totally not Spike. Did you see his expression once he lifted the case out of the box? And how it changed when he was actually holding it?"

"Yeah, he got all dreamy like," Willow confirmed, a small smile pulling at her lips. "Kinda like Tara when we're..." she stopped abruptly, a stricken look on her face.

"TMI Willow," Buffy cautioned. She picked the knife up that Spike had been using and let its weight rest in her palm much like Spike had done earlier. The knife's weight was nearly as comforting as that of a stake, although a lot less useful when faced with a pair of vamps.

Willow blanched and nodded in agreement, trying not to look mortified. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"TMI?" Xander looked back and forth between the two girls.

"Too much information," Buffy explained. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the knife into the air, catching it handle first, before tossing it into the sink.

"What? OH!" Xander said, in sudden understanding. "Actually Willow," he said, leaning forward across the counter toward her, trying to act nonchalant despite the fact his eyes were glistening avidly. "Feel free to divulge all."

"Xander!" Buffy said, glaring at him, crossing her arms in disapproval.

"Okay, okay," he said, backing up, holding his hands out, fingers spread in defeat. "I was just trying to be a good friend..."

"Back to Spike," Buffy said, redirecting the conversation away from things better left unsaid. "That box had some kind of effect on him. Did either of you see if there was anything written on it? Any pattern inlaid in the wood?"

Xander shook his head but Willow piped up with: "There was something. It looked like an ancient form of Arcadian."

"Could you read it?" Buffy asked.

Willow shook her head. "No, it was all upside down and kinda backwards. But I think I can remember what it said and write it down. Maybe, with Giles help, I could translate it, but it might not mean anything. It could just be some pretty innocent design."

"Near the Hell Mouth? Little to no chance on the innocence. Let's see go see Giles and get his input." Buffy's eyes drifted outside; the darkness seemed to pulsate with menace. She felt goose bumps rise on her forearms and absently ran her palms up and down, trying to convince the hair to lie quietly again. "Because I've got a bad feeling about this."

"It's fascinating, really," Giles said, pausing long enough to slide his glasses off his nose. Idly, he polished the lenses before slipping them back into place. "The letters are much older than Arcadian, although you were definitely on the right track Willow."

"Pre Arcadian?" She questioned, one finger tracing the unusual letter she had drawn from memory. It seemed her idea about them being backward and upside down had been correct. It had taken only a chance glance in a mirror for Giles to solve that much of the mystery.

"Older than that even," Giles said, reaching behind him to snag another thick tome off the cart. The entire Scooby Gang, except for Dawn who was still back at the house, hopefully long since gone to bed after finishing her homework, sat around the round table at the back of the Magic Shop. The smell of patchouli lingered in the air from the incense Anya had had burning when they had arrived. Behind the counter, the large antique clock slowly, and dramatically, announced the witching hour.

"Pre-pre Arcadian?" Xander offered helpfully, looking around Anya's shoulder. The once demon sat on his lap, leaning comfortably back against his chest, his arms wrapped around her waist.

"Even more pres than that, I'm afraid," Giles explained as he carefully opened the book. From the yellowed pages, a musty smell issued and his nose wrinkled slightly as he flipped carefully through the aged volume. "It's a bit like ancient Egyptian. It uses symbols for words much like Chinese writing does now. See," he said, looking up from the book to point at one of the symbols that Willow had replicated. "This looks like some kind of blindfolded bird in flight. . ."

"A duck blind!" Xander inserted cheerfully and then paused when all eyes turned to him totally uncomprehending. "Duck blind? Blind duck? Blindfold?" he looked at each of them expectantly but only saw blank expressions. He sighed and shook his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Just forget it."

Anya snuggled closer, her hand stroking his hair. "It's okay. I get it, even if they don't."

Xander brightened. "You do?"

She nodded and smiled brightly. "Of course I do silly. You're such a dear to want to blindfold the ducks before you shoot them. Some people wouldn't be so kind. This one demon, Likintsee, actually preferred to see the horror in the ducks' eyes before he killed them. Considered it an aphrodisiac... Hmm," Anya paused, her expression turning seductive. "Maybe we should try that sometime."

His mouth dropped open as if to speak but he couldn't think of anything to say. No one ever understood him and he understood Anya even less, but she smelled good, she liked him and she liked sex. What more could he ask for?

Across the table, Giles, Buffy and Willow continued their conversation. "What would a blindfolded duck mean?" Buffy asked.

"I'm not really sure," Giles answered, putting the yellow paged book aside and reaching for another, equally old and as equally smelly. "But it can't be anything good I'm afraid."

"That goes without saying," Buffy said pointedly. "If you could have seen the change in Spike's expression when he held that box…" Her voice trailed off in thought. "Willow, did you notice anything about Spike's fingers?"

"Hmm? His fingers? No, why?"

"It seemed as if he was clutching the box as if his life depended on it."

"Maybe it was..."

"Anya?"

"Well," Anya said, shifting on Xander's lap so that she could see everyone better. "There's an old legend about a box that could swallow your soul..."

"Not this box then," Xander quipped. "Spike hasn't got one to be swallowed."

"But he _had_ one," Anya half turned back to him. "At one time I mean," she quickly added when she saw the disapproval in her lover's eyes. She turned back to the others, knowing that they'd be far more interested in her story then Xander was. "And if the box did swallow his soul, and he's found it…"

"A vampire with a soul. . ." Buffy said softly, her eyes unfocused as she remembered a vampire that did have a soul. Everyone looked at her and then, just as quickly, found something else to look at.

"Um. Yes. An interesting concept. The box I mean," Giles said glibly. "Anya, do you remember any more about the legend?" he asked, rising from his chair, his expression focused on trying to remember what it was that was tickling the back of his mind. He moved toward the large bookcase at the far side of the room.

"Actually yes, quite a bit," Anya replied, sitting up straighter, her expression becoming more animated. Most of the time she felt like a third wheel, or at least what she thought a third wheel would feel like, it one could actually speak and express its emotions. But to actually have some knowledge that would be useful, well that was a unique and wondrous experience.

"Well, then. Would you care to share?" Giles prompted politely when she remained silent.

"Oh, yes. Right. Sorry. Got carried away with my thoughts. The box was created by a demon..."

"Should have known," Buffy muttered.

Undeterred, Anya continued. "He was really quite clever, you know. His name was Zelsar, or Zels, as he told me to call him," she giggled. "But then we were quite close."

"Um, how close?"

"Not that close Xander dear. More like, well," she turned to look at Willow and smiled warmly. "Willow and Tara close!"

Xander's expression turned gloomy. "That's not what I wanted to hear..."

"Anyway," she continued. "Zels remembered something from his childhood..."

"Demons have a childhood?" Buffy asked. "I mean, what's that like? A daddy demon teaching the baby demon how to smash heads in?"

"Yes exactly!" Anya nodded, excited that someone finally, after all these years, understood her. She didn't seem to notice that everyone looked slightly nauseous. "His father had told him about a magic box that could suck up souls and hold them until the one who had lost its soul should find the box."

"What happens then? Does the box just burp up the person's soul? Kinda like a slobbery version of finders keepers?" Xander asked.

"Not exactly, it's a bit more complicated than that... "

"It always is," Buffy said sagely from across the table.

"Actually, what needs to happen is. . . " Anya didn't get a chance to finish because suddenly the door to the shop was thrown open. All heads turned just in time to see Spike flung through the opening. The vampire slid across the floor on his stomach, arms outstretched with the box resting in his upward turned palms. His forward motion was halted by a well placed foot against his shoulder. The foot belonged to Buffy.

"Oh, hi there," Spike said, lifting his head off the floor, looking slightly dazed. "Nice catch."

"Spike," Buffy said, reaching down to grab his shoulder. She hauled him to his feet. "Care to introduce us to your friends?"

"They're not my friends," the vampire answered, shifting the box so that he could cradle it against his body while he wiped the dirt and dust from his clothes. He glanced up at the three creatures that now stood in the doorway, they're massive bulk completely blocking out the front of the store. "The one in the middle seems to fancy my box," he explained, scowling at the largest, and ugliest, of the three.

"His name isn't Zelsar by any chance is it?"

Spike's expression was incredulous. "How in the bloody 'ell did you know?"

"Oh," Buffy said, turning her head to look at Willow. With her eyes, she gestured toward the large pile of books that were on the cart. The top one, which belonged to Willow was the one bought today titled, "Demons: All Things Inhuman". Willow followed her gaze and nodded in understanding, inching her way in that direction. Giles quickly caught on and shifted his stance on the off chance that the cart, and Willow, could be hidden from the demons' view.

"It was just a wild guess," Buffy said, answering Spike's question.

"Well it was a bloody good one," Spike responded as he flicked a rather large bit of dust from the lapel of his leather coat. "He wants this," he said, holding the box out so that the light was caught and reflected by the finish on the box. "But he can't have it."

"Anya," Giles said, turning his head slightly toward her direction. He frowned when he noticed she was waving happily at the demon she called, Zels. "This might be a good time to tell us how one goes about getting ones soul out of the box."

But before Anya could answer, Zels muttered something unintelligible under its breath. The demon on its right nodded, or at least it seemed to nod, and stepped forward, flexing its arms muscles in a way that could only be construed as a threat. Its face was convoluted in what had to be either a grimace or a smile depending on whether you understood demon or not.

"There is only way to regain ones soul, human," the middle demon said. Its voice reminded Buffy of a documentary she had seen once about an elk being attacked by a grizzly bear. The roaring sound of their battle had been only slightly quieter than the demon's voice and a lot more understandable. She strained to hear more. "And that is to defeat us."

"Is that all?" Buffy quipped. She laced her fingers together and cracked her knuckles. "That should be easy enough."

Beside her, Spike turned to look at her, his surprise at her willingness to help clearly reflected in his expression. "You'd help me get my soul back?"

"A vampire without a soul is only a vampire," Buffy replied softly. "But a vampire with a soul has a chance to be something better." She turned back to the demon and taunted him. "So come on. Let's do this and get it over with. I need to get up early in the morning. Despite what you might think, even I need my beauty sleep."

The demon named Zelsar laughed and gestured crudely to the other two. They all stepped aside showing the hoard of demons standing near the door. There were at least ten of them, all of the same size and of the same bulk as the first three.

Buffy heard the sound of a chair being slid back and then heard Xander exclaim under his breath, "Damn. I knew there'd be a catch."

"Anya?" Buffy asked tensely.

"He's right Buffy," Anya said. "They all have to be defeated."

"They all?" Giles asked, his hands nervously reaching up toward his glasses. Deciding that now wasn't the right time to clean the lenses, he forced them back down to his side. "Anya, how many of them are there?"

"Only a couple of hundred or so."

"What!"

"Well," Anya looked around at all the staring faces defensively. "It could be more, it just depends on the cycle of the moon. Right now, the moon is waning..."

"A couple hundred. Okay. Well, I guess it could be worse. . ." Buffy drew herself up and straightened her shoulders. "Let's do it guys!" And she darted forward.

With a yell that would have a done a Rebel soldier proud, Xander launched himself after her. He picked up a chair and raised it over his head, bringing it down on top of the nearest demon. The chair smashed into tiny bits leaving Xander holding one forlorn arm, but the demon, unhurt, grinned maliciously. With little effort, it simply reached out and slapped a gnarled, wart like appendage against Xander's shoulder. With a startled yelp, Xander went flying through the air. He landed in a heap, started to rise and then groaned once and collapsed.

Anya screamed in fury. She launched herself at the demon, fingers splayed, eyes gleaming dangerously and landed on his back. Her hands grabbed the tips of his long, gnarled ears and clamped her legs around his waist. He roared as Anya dug her fingernails into the fleshy tips of his ears and yelled, "Die Demon! Die!"

Buffy, in the meantime, was a whirlwind of motion. She flipped one demon over her shoulder, twirled and smashed her left foot in the mouth of one standing just behind her. Gracefully, she extended her left arm for balance and whirled that way, her legs kicking upward, her feet connecting and sending two more demons flying. Sensing several more behind her, she transformed her forward motion into a graceful frontal flip that took her close to a display case. Her elbow slammed through the glass of the case, and with a "Sorry Giles!" thrown over her shoulder, she snatched up two weapons: a gleaming silver hatchet with elegant scrolls down the ebony handle and a scythe, its glistening curving blade dagger sharp. But there was little time to admire the mastery that had gone into the creation of the weapons; the demons had surrounded her.

"Well, looks like that dance has begun and woe is me," she said, pitching her voice so that she sounded like a damsel in distress from an old time serial. "My dance card is empty. Any of you big boys care to do the tango with me?" Their response was to bellow and howl their approval as they swarmed toward her.

On the other side of the room, Willow had managed to snag her book from the top of the pile and was furiously turning pages, trying to find something to help Buffy out. Giles was in front of her, protecting her by welding a broadsword with quiet efficiency. Still the demons kept coming.

"Willow!" Buffy called out, without pausing in her dance of death. "Now would be a good time to find something, anything!" Carcasses were falling on top of other carcasses, leaving little room to move and still, the demons came onward. They were a never ending stream of gruesome party guests.

"I'm trying!" Willow cried out, her fingers flipping pages as fast as her eyes could scan the written words. Suddenly she gasped, and scrambled to find the words that she had read, but hadn't quite understood. With a finger that trembled, she searched the page for the correct paragraph. Finding it, she read it twice and then yelled: "The case! Get the case and throw it at Zelsar!"

"The case!" Buffy exclaimed, dropping to the floor to avoid the heavy crate being thrown at her head. She popped back up and swung the scythe, cutting off the arm of the demon on her left. She grimaced as green ichor splashed the sleeve of her silk shirt. "Damn!" She glared at the one-armed demon. "That's going to cost you an arm and a leg!" And swung the scythe to make the one-armed demon one legged as well. She whirled around, attempting to locate a certain blond-haired vampire. She ducked, and gut punched a demon and finally spotted her target. Spike had somehow managed to crawl under a table and was trying to pry open the case with a wooden stake.

Executing a series of flips and cartwheels, punctuated with a few well-placed kicks, Buffy managed to cross the room and slide under the table to join Spike. "Be careful with that thing," she said, looking pointedly at the stake that Spike was using. "It can cause you serious harm."

"Don't care," Spike panted, as he tried stabbing the point into the barely visible crack around the top of the case. The wood slipped and the point went into his finger instead. "Bloody 'ell!" he exclaimed but didn't pause in his quest to find the opening.

"Spike..."

"Go away!" He snarled at Buffy, his face metamorphosing, exposing the vamp within. "This is mine! And I'll have it or die trying!"

"You can't die, you're already dead." Buffy quipped, snapping her right foot out to trip a demon that was menacing Xander. "But we can and that," she said, pointing at the red varnished case, "can save us."

"Why should I care about you?" He barked and then his face returned to human-normal as he realized what he had said and who he had said it to. "Buffy," he said, nearly pleading, unable to articulate a true apology. "It's my soul..."

"I know," Buffy said, her eyes reflecting sympathy. "And if there was another way, I'd do everything in my power to return it to you." She reached out to lay her hand on the one that he had wrapped around the case. "But there isn't."

For a long moment, oblivious to what was going on around them, they stared into each other's eyes. Finally, Spike murmured his favorite phrase. "Bloody 'ell. Here." He said, thrusting the case into her hands. "Be quick about it before I change my mind."

Buffy squeezed his hand and slithered from under the table. Standing up, she searched the room for the Big Bad. Finding him, she drew back her arm, and making like a quarterback, hurled the box across the room. Zelsar, who all this time had been safely protected by his bodyguards, looked up just in time to see Buffy's determined smile. She mouthed, "Bye-bye!" just as the case smashed into his face. A blinding white light engulfed the demon as a swirl of colors, blue, indigo, orange, red, pink, green, lavender and every color in between, surrounded him. The colors represented all the souls trapped in the box. There was a loud rush of sound and then suddenly the room was emptied of demons, leaving the humans, one ex demon and Spike.

Slowly, with various grunts and groans, the Scooby Gang rose to their feet, dusted off their clothes and converged in the center of the room while Spike crawled slowly from underneath the table.

"Good work Willow," Buffy said and was rewarded with a brilliant smile from her long time best friend.

"Well if we hadn't gone to the mall, I wouldn't have had the book..."

"And we would have been history." Buffy finished for her. "See?" She said, sounding extremely pleased with herself. "Even shopping trips are important in the scheme of life."

"Wouldn't have needed it if _he_," Xander mumbled through a bloody handkerchief held up against his mouth as he glared at Spike. "Hadn't had the box delivered to your house!"

"Where _did_ you get that case from anyway?" Giles asked Spike as he adjusted his glasses and straightened his clothing.

Buffy stared at Spike in surprise. The vampire looked downright sheepish, almost as if he had been caught without his fangs. "I, well, sort of, ordered it... "

"Ordered it?" Giles repeated. "Order it from where?"

"A mail order catalog. . ." Spike mumbled under his breath.

For a moment there was astonished silence. Then, each of them reacted in a different, yet predictable way. Xander guffawed loudly, Giles chuckled although, after seeing the embarrassment on Spike's face, he politely turned it into a cough and Willow and Anya exchanged glances, neither bothering to hide their amusement. Buffy watched Spike, her expression thoughtful.

"Wouldn't expect any of you to understand!" Spike snarled as he pulled the lapels of his coat up around him, trying to regain his dignity. His eyes swept the group, pausing momentarily as his and Buffy's eyes met. Instinctively, he realized that she _did_ understand and that she had meant every word she had said about helping him if she could.

Silently, with a small nod of his head, he acknowledged the fact that he knew that she, alone, understood. With a final haughty glance at the others, he stalked through the shambles of the Magic Shop and out into the darkness of the night. Buffy was the only one that watched him go.

Behind her, she heard the others talking. "Mail order Spike!" Xander chortled while Giles was murmuring to himself about asking Spike, the next time he saw him, the name of that catalog. Anya had joined Willow and as she was flipping through Willow's book, she was pointing out the demons she knew in person.

Someday Spike, Buffy thought to herself, a small smile playing about her lips as she turned around to join her friends, you'll find your soul. I just know it.


End file.
